


Some Like It Hot

by LNC



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fireman AU - Freeform, Ladrien June, Ladrien June 2019, ba dum ts, ladrien, rated T for now, who knows if things might... heat up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-05 20:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19047424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LNC/pseuds/LNC
Summary: Adrien Agreste is a disaster-prone science teacher who falls hard for the lady fireman living across the street.





	1. not a whimper but a

**Author's Note:**

> A series of inter-connected drabbles for Ladrien June.

Adrien woke up to a pain in his chest, warm, scratchy whiskers against his face, and a coughing fit so violent he knew he’d be feeling it in his abdomen for days.

It took him several disorienting minutes to realize that the sirens and smoke and smell of sulfur were all his fault.

He let himself be lead from where he’d been dumped out on the grass and given CPR to the waiting ambulance.  A quick look over his shoulder told him all he needed to know about the state of his flat. He used the shock blanket to hide his face from his agitated neighbors.

This was the second “explosion” in as many months – another one of his lab preps gone wrong.  Thankfully, if the lack of panic in the area was any indication, the damage was limited. Now that they knew he wasn’t dead of course.

“Monsieur Agreste.”

Adrien winced as his landlady stomped her way through the early morning grass, pink robe over flannel pajama pants, with a Medusa scowl that could freeze an army.

He knew before the scolding started that he’d have to start looking for a new place.


	2. no press is bad press

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A series of inter-connected drabbles for Ladrien June.

Finding a new apartment was proving to be impossible.

He wasn’t sure why he was surprised.  Sure, he had glowing references from his employer, good credit, and a winning smile.  But every time they asked for information from his previous residence he hit the same stumbling block.

 _Apparently_ blowing up your flat a few times was grounds for application dismissal.

Adrien thought his landlady might want to keep that information to herself, the better to rid him with and all that, but six weeks of searching proved him wrong.  Landlords gossiped like grandmothers.

He was fortunate that Nino was so forgiving.  It was a good friend that let you crash on their couch for the better part of two months.  It was a _best_ friend who gave you shit for it.

“Adrien, man, I love you.  You know I do. But _seriously._  What the _fuck_ are you growing in my fridge?”

“It’s a culture.” He mumbled, throwing his comforter over his head and turning to face the back of the couch.  Nino was an _early riser_.  “For class.”

“Throw it out.”

“But work,” He groaned, not bothering to open his eyes.  “ _Work_.”

Adrien felt a sharp jab in his ass and knew that Nino had kicked him.

“Then keep that shit at _work_.” He said.  “I’m at the bank today.  I want it gone before I get back.”

Adrien murmured something like assent and sighed in relief once he heard the door slam shut.

 _Finally_.

“Mrrow.”

His eyes snapped open, meeting the grey backed couch cushion in horror.

 _Fuck_.


	3. fat cat gets pat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A series of inter-connected drabbles for Ladrien June.

Plagg was an overweight pain in the ass.

A furry butt, cheese-nippy obsessed caterwauling nightmare.

Adrien loved him more than anything.

Proof enough being that he was awake at all.  9:50 on a Thursday morning during one of the last precious days of summer and he was out here with his blimp on a harness taking a morning constitutional.

The _looks_ were one thing.  Picking up his droppings like he was a chihuahua not a house cat was something else entirely.

“I thought I adopted a _cat_ ,” He said with affectionate disdain as Plagg proceeded to roll around in the grass.

“Oh my god.”

Adrien winced as he heard the tell-tale squeals of an incoming attack.  He plastered a grin on his face and turned to face the two young women who were already cooing at Plagg from the sidewalk.

“Juleka isn’t he just _divine_.”

“Mmm.”

“I _know_!”

The taller one, Juleka, offered him a tight lipped smile. Adrien would have felt defensive if the blonde beside her wasn’t so effusive.

Plagg deigned to let them approach and she practically shrieked with delight.

“Don’t scare him, Rose.”

Rose waved her off, cooing over the self-satisfied bastard.

“I wish I could just take you home, yes I do.”

Adrien laughed.

“If you had a spare room I know we could certainly use it.”

“Oh?”

He smiled, chagrined. He’d said it as a joke.  Explaining the truth behind it felt more than a little pathetic.

But hey, that’s where he was at.

“Plagg and I are kind of in-between homes right now.”

“ _Oh_ ,” she said, voice soft and sympathetic as she scratched Plagg behind the ears.

“Hmm.” Juleka added, loquacious as ever.

They exchanged a look, one Adrien politely decided to ignore as he watched his cat grow tired of their affections.  He swatted at Rose’s hand.

She laughed.

“You know,” Rose said, standing up to her full, limited height.  “I might actually know of something.”

Plagg sat up and licked his crotch,

winningly.


	4. hit me jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A series of inter-connected drabbles for Ladrien June.

Despite his vet’s urging otherwise, Plagg dined on cheesy nips for a week.

Rose and Juleka ( _see_ : angels, lifesavers, heaven sent) _did_ have a lead on on a flat– their own.

“Our band is actually about to go on a world tour,” Rose said, casual as you please over the cups of coffee Adrien insisted on buying them.  “We were actually looking for someone to sublet the space.”

He was very, _very_ eager to be that someone.

Even sight unseen and Rose’s potential embellishments notwithstanding –

(“It’s the _cutest_ two bedroom third floor brownstone.  The neighbors are _super_ sweet, even if Michel can be a little quiet.  Kim, on the ground floor, he balances him out pretty well though.  And _oh,_ the _neighborhood_. Adrien, it’s to _die_ for.  We’re right across the street from this old firehouse and as long as you don’t mind the occasional siren it’s _perfect_.”)

– the price was reasonable, it was biking distance to work, and they didn’t mind cats.

He was ready to sign the lease immediately.

And with glowing references in hand – Nino _technically_ fit the bill of landlord right? – he was moving into his new home less than two weeks later.

Although Nino, the ass, nearly dropped Adrien’s _very fragile_ and _clearly labeled_ box of beakers when he saw the firehouse.

“Hedging your bets, Agreste?”

Adrien rescued his lab equipment from his laughing friend.

“Fuck you.”

He’d learned his lesson.  For real, this time.

Adrien was going to keep his experiments confined to campus.

He was going to play the good tenant, _not_ fuck up his lease, and there would be no more explosions in casa de Agreste.

He lasted three days before setting off the fire alarm.


	5. like a bell

“No, no, _no_ ,” Adrien said, frantic as the smell of burnt popcorn and smoldering paper filled the air.

“No, shit, _fuck_ ,” He said, again, more urgently as the too familiar shrieks of the fire alarm went off.

He threw the smoking bag in the sink and turned on the faucet before rushing towards the windows.  An admittedly desperate attempt to air out his flat before–

 _Fuuck_.

Adrien watched in horror as not one but _two_ fire trucks, sirens blaring, were deployed from across the street.  The sirens’ doppler effect a painful soundtrack to his mortification as the trucks rushed past to the light only to make an urgent U-turn to reach their side of the street.  Below, he could see his neighbors filing out, expressions bored.

 _Oh god_.  This was definitely not the first impression he wanted to make.

One of the fireman, a slight woman in bulky fatigues approached.  His neighbor pointed up towards his apartment and shrugged. She looked up and Adrien ducked.

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

_Why_ didn’t he just stay in the kitchen?  How _lazy_ was he that he couldn’t stand for three minutes and count the one, two pop like the bag instructed?  How _sensitive_ was this stupid fire alarm that all it took was a measly bag of popcorn to ruin his day, his week, his new fire-free lead on life?

He had _two_ bachelor’s degrees, a masters, and spoke four languages.  But somehow he was incapable of operating a _microwave?_

Adrien risked a glance out the window.  The trucks remained but his neighbors were gone.

Maybe they realized it was a mistake and were going to leave.  Maybe Adrien wouldn’t have to face anyone over this at all. Maybe–

A firm knock at the door told him he’d been caught out.

“Sir, is everything all right in there?”

Swallowing his pride Adrien stood up from his place on the floor and sheepishly moved to answer the door.  

“I’m so sorry,” He said, words babbling out before he even had the door open.  “It was a mistake, I left the kitchen for just a minute I _swear_ and the _stupid_ popcorn button doesn’t _actually_ make popcorn and– _oh_.”

His voice trailed off on a mortifyingly soft whisper as he met the woman’s laughing gaze.

Eyes as blue as springtime flowers.  Cheeks dusted with freckles like dandelion seeds.  Dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail that didn’t even reach his chin and lips pressed into a restraining line, holding back a smile dimples couldn’t hide.

“You know you’re supposed to evacuate in an emergency right?”

_Thump._

“I…”

_Tha-Thump._

“Is…” His voice cracked and he felt his cheeks turning so red he could _die_.  “Is it an emergency if I was just an idiot? I didn’t want to meet my neighbors this way.”

“Don’t worry about them.  The tenants here are pretty chill.” She leaned in, almost conspiratorially.  “But if Kim gives you any grief just tell him Unit 56 still has his underwear whenever he wants to collect.”

 _That_ startled a laugh out of him.

She grinned.

“Besides,” She said. “We’re all used to it. The system here is pretty old and operates on a trigger.  This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

 _Great_.

An over-active fire alarm.  Just what he needed.

His distress must have shown on his face because her grin softened into something more understanding.

“Bit of a firebug?”

Adrien rubbed his face with both his hands and nodded.  “I have the _worst_ luck.”

He was expecting some sort of scolding but when he dropped his hands she was still giving him that softsame smile.

“Don’t sweat it, hot stuff.  We’re all a little unlucky in something.” She reached forward, lightly punching his arm, igniting him.

“That’s what _I’m_ here for.”


	6. apple at the desk

Marinette.  Her name was Marinette.

Mar-in-ette.

 _Marinette_.

Like a song he only knew by lines, her name ran circles through his mind for days.

It was, he knew, a little pathetic.

He found his eye wandering to the firehouse on more than one occasion, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.  It had been a little over a week but he’d yet to see her since. Adrien started to wonder, ever so innocently, if it would be the _worst_ thing in the world to botch a few more home experiments.

He _didn’t_.  But the thought was there all the same.

His conscience and pride worked in tandem to keep from following that particular impulse.  He’d still yet to meet his neighbors although he’d seen one of them, Michel, playing guitar on his balcony in the evenings.

Nino was no help at all.

“Just go over there man.” He’d said, not even beginning to entertain Adrien’s _calf-eyed bullshit_.

Adrien resented the accusation until he found himself up late one evening contemplating poetry.  A mortifying realization, really. There was a _reason_ he majored in the sciences.

 _Yikes_.  

He _really_ had to see her again.

Which was how Adrien found himself sweaty-palmed, nervous-kneed at the open garage entrance of the fire house.  He clutched a bag of unpopped popcorn and a thank you card to his chest, knowing it was a mistake to be here even as he knocked on the wall to get someone’s attention.

“Hello?”

A large man appeared from around one of the fire engines.  His expression wasn’t unfriendly but it was far from the welcome Adrien needed right now.

“Can I help you?”

“Ah,” Adrien said, hands going numb.  “I was looking for Marinette? If she’s not too busy that is.”

The man’s eyes flickered down to the gifts in Adrien’s hands and his face lit up with a devious sort of glee.

“Hey LB!” He shouted, making him jump.  “Your boyfriend is here!”

Adrien’s face flushed red.  “Oh no. I’m not–”

His words fell short when a figure slid out from beneath one of the trucks.  Hair tucked up in a messy bun, grease smeared on her hands and right cheek, he nearly choked on his tongue as she blinked up at them with an irritated grimace.

“I told you all to drop it, Hanon.” She said.  “He’s not my – Adrien?”

Marinette scrambled to her feet, hands flailing about before awkwardly landing at her side.  “What are you doing here?”

Adrien opened his mouth to speak only for a small whine to escape.

 _Oh god_.

This was a mistake.

“Not that you’re not welcome here!” She added hastily.  “You’re more than welcome here. _Everyone_ is welcome here. Not just you, but _also_ you– oh _shut up,_ Elliott.”

 _Elliott_ was nearly doubled over in hysterics.  Adrien wished he could just melt into the floor and be done with it.

And he thought she was a vision before.

Adrien wasn’t sure what the hell he was supposed to do with the sight of her bare _arms_. Beautiful and terrifying, muscles for days that were currently flexed and ready to beat down on her wayward friend.

“I’m going! I’m going!” He said, cackling even as he escaped out the door.

Marinette scowled after him, cheeks pink.  She blew a stray lock of hair from her eyes and turned back to him.

“I’m sorry about that.”

Adrien thought he might have nodded or chirped or something equally as horrifying because she pursed her lips, holding back a smile.

“Are those for me?” She asked, gesturing towards the now-forgotten offerings in his hands.

“Yeah,” He said, nearly shoving the popcorn and card at her before realizing she was covered in grease.  “To say thank you, um...”

“Hold on a sec,” She said, running off to grab a rag.

Adrien felt a little foolish but when she came bounding back to him with a wide grin he couldn’t help but think it was worth it.

“Oh my god,” Marinette snorted, taking the bag of popcorn. “You didn’t.”

“You have to read the card.” He said, a little giddy as she peeled back the envelope.

“ _Not to sound corny, but thanks for popping in and saving my life_.” She looked up at him, eyes flat. “Really?”

“Really,” He said.  “And the microwave part glows in the dark.  Using phosphorescence. Nothing toxic, I promise.”

A funny look crossed over her face.

“Did you make this?”

“Yeah,” Adrien said, suddenly unsure.

Etiquette taught him thank you cards were the height of good manners and a rather ingenious excuse to see her again.  Now that he’d handed it over he was starting to feel like a school boy presenting a drawing to his favorite teacher.

“I – thank you.” She said.  “That’s– that’s really sweet of you.”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck.  “It’s nothing, really. Thanks for not, um,”

He gestured widely, not quite sure what he was trying to say but wanting to say it all the same.  

Marinette smiled like she understood him anyway.

"Any time."


End file.
